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Her eyes scanned the perfect, sunlit day beyond the window of the Jujutsu High classroom. Her cheek rested lazily against her palm as she daydreamed, wondering what it might be like to be a drifting cottonwood seed instead of a human. But even in the midst of her musings, she couldn't help but feel grateful for being human, and more importantly, for being born in the same era as him, her white-haired, overconfident friend.
It was just another ordinary day. As always, she arrived first, claiming her usual spot by the window. The birds chirped outside, their melodies weaving effortlessly into the quiet rustle of tree leaves swaying to the rhythm of a soft spring breeze. The classroom is still empty Shoko hadn't arrived yet, and the real chaos is no doubt on its way, Suguru Geto and his best friend, Satoru Gojo.
Yes, him again.
Her favorite kind of chaos.
She was lost in her thoughts, immersed in the gentle stillness of the morning, when a loud thud broke her reverie. The door slammed open.
There he was, as expected, swinging his bag over one shoulder. It barely clung on as Gojo strode in, tossing it onto his desk with dramatic flair. Right behind him came Geto, his expression as calm and serene as ever, taking the seat beside him.
Their eyes immediately landed on her, perched by the window as always. Gojo beamed his usual grin before strolling over to her, Geto following closely. He took the seat beside her, and the three exchanged their routine but tender smiles.
Her body tensed slightly as Gojo leaned casually against the windowsill in front of her. The breeze tousled his snowy white hair, and she silently admitted it was her favorite sight. His brows arches in that mischievous, familiar way, and his grin widens as he says,
"What's up with you, Y/N? Still watching those cottonwood seeds float around?"
She could smell his cologne from where she sat. A fresh blend of white musk with a hint of cedarwood. That iss his scent. Her favorite.
God!! She is doomed.
She doesn't dare to meet his eyes. If she does, she might betray herself, and all the unspoken words buried deep in her heart might slip through her gaze. Instead, she keeps her eyes fixed on the world outside and replies softly,
"They're beautiful. I wonder how far they've traveled to reach here."
Her voice gentle, honey-smooth, carried the weight of wistfulness.
Gojo lets out a dramatic tsk, visibly puzzled by her contentment with such simplicity.
"Seriously? You find those tiny things pretty?"
Geto simply chuckles, amused by his friend's exaggerated dismay. He leans back in his chair, shoving his hands into his pockets with ease.
The classroom door swings open again, this time revealing Shoko, grinning as usual. Her gaze fall on Y/N instantly, and she made a beeline toward her.
"Man, I woke up so late," Shoko huffed as she slumped into her seat, her usual place beside
Y/N.
Geto had already stood up to give her space.
"Satoru, when was the last time she was on time?" he teases lightly.
Gojo, still grinning, makes his way back to his desk and throws back with mock exasperation,
"In her dreams, obviously."
Their laughter filled the room, while Shoko rolled her eyes and tossed back a sarcastic remark, which of course fell on deaf ears. The boys were already too busy teasing her to care.
Y/N simply smiled, quietly watching their banter unfold. She adored how close they were.
For the third time that morning, the door opened, this time with a heavy presence. Principal Yaga stepped inside, his brows already furrowed the moment his eyes landed on the usual suspects, Gojo and Geto.
"Here comes a whole damn lecture," Gojo muttered with a groan, already anticipating the storm.
He knew exactly what was coming. They had once again forgotten to place the veil around Jujutsu High.
"I'm not surprised…" Geto murmured, clearly expecting it too, though inwardly amused.
"Who do you think you two are?" Yaga's voice boomed through the room, his irritation evident.
"Two idiots, obviously," Shoko deadpanned as she sank further into her chair.
She was rewarded with twin glares from both boys, though it only made her smirk.
Y/N observes the scene with an endearing smile, her eyes soft as the commotion unfolded. Yaga's voice echoed through the classroom until the period came to a close, marking the end of yet another beautifully chaotic day in her quietly enchanted life.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ་
Gojo's eyes quietly scan Y/N as she absentmindedly stirs her spoon in the bowl of miso soup in front of her. They sit together at one of the long tables in the Jujutsu High cafeteria, the soft hum of conversation and clinking utensils surrounding them.
She's been unusually quiet today. Silence isn't rare for her, but there's a weight to it now something heavier, unspoken.
"Y/N? You're doing okay, right?" Gojo asks, sipping from her strawberry milk which he earlier pulled without even asking. Classic Gojo behaviour? Yes. He tilts his head, concern flickering in his eyes where his usual playful smirk is notably absent.
His voice pulls her out of her thoughts. She looks up at him, her expression unreadable for a second before she offers a dismissive, almost too-casual response.
"Y-yeah..obviously, I am," she says gently, her voice soft and innocent, but not quite convincing.
"You seem off," Gojo presses, watching her closely as he finishes the last of his drink, the carton crinkling in his hand.
His words catch the attention of the other two at the table.
Shoko leans forward, placing the back of her hand against Y/N's forehead with mock concern. "She's more than fine," she says lightly, though her eyes linger a little longer than usual.
Geto, who had been quietly eating, finally sets down his chopsticks and leans back slightly, eyes still fixed on Y/N.
"People don't just stir soup like that unless something's bothering them," he says calmly, his tone gentle but perceptive. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but... we're here."
His words hang in the air for a moment, soft and grounding, like a quiet promise that whatever it is, she's not alone.
She gives them a small, nervous look, something not unusual for her, and they all know it. Still, she offers a smile, fragile but genuine.
"Thank you... really," she says softly, her gaze briefly meeting theirs before dropping back to her soup. "I'm just a little... lost in my head today"
Her voice is gentle, like a breeze brushing through quiet rooms, barely above a whisper, but enough to settle the silence.
Gojo's familiar smirk finally returns as he leans in with a teasing lilt to his voice.
"Did you see your prince charming in your dreams last night, Y/N?"
"Eh?" Her eyes shot wide and in no time her cheeks flush a soft shade of pink, and Gojo blinks. That reaction, so sudden, so adorably real catches him off guard for a split second.
She's quite the sight, really. A delicate, round face framed by long, curling black hair that spills down her back like dark silk. Her large, doe-like brown eyes fringed with impossibly long lashes hold a quiet wonder, even when she's silent. Petite in stature, gentle in demeanor, and sweet as honey, she moves through life like she's made of rose petals.
Which by every logical standard isn't Gojo's type.Right?
Who knows.
Before he can spiral further into thought, a loud thwack breaks through his haze Shoko's hand smacking the back of his head.
"Idiot," she scolds, narrowing her eyes. "She's not a pervert like you."
"Ow-!" Gojo gasps, more out of surprise than pain. His infinity had been off, and the hit had landed. Tch. Rookie mistake.
Geto chuckles beside him, clearly entertained by the chaos.
But before Gojo can fire back, the shrill ring of the bell echoes through the cafeteria.
"Yaga called us, remember?" Geto reminds, already rising from his seat.
With no time to waste, Gojo stands, stretching slightly before slinging his hands into his pockets. As he walks away, he turns briefly, flashing his usual grin and waving lazily at the table behind him before dragging his feet toward the hallway.
Geto rises a moment later, but before following, he reaches over and gently ruffles Y/N's hair, careful not to mess it too much.
"Take care of yourself, hmm?" he says, a soft smile playing on his lips, warm and sincere.
"You too," she murmurs, looking up at him with a small nod.
In that moment, as their eyes meet, there's something unspoken between them comforting and familiar. She sees in him the brother she never had. And for Geto, that feeling is mutual.
As Gojo and Geto disappear through the cafeteria doors, their voices fading into the hallway, Y/N remains seated, her eyes fixed on the swirling miso broth in her bowl.
After a moment of silence, she speaks. Her voice is quiet, almost hesitant.
"I got the scholarship," she says, barely above a whisper, as if saying it aloud makes it more real.
Shoko's eyes widen immediately. She looks up sharply, the words hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. Her chopsticks freeze mid-air, and a sharp breath catches in her throat. Something in that single sentence pierces through her calm, shaking something deep within her.
"You really aren't continuing this?" she asks, her voice low, carefully measured, like she's afraid of the answer. Her gaze drops back down to her tray, fingers tightening around her chopsticks. She doesn't dare meet Y/N's eyes.
There's a long pause. The air between them feels heavier than before, dense with the weight of unspoken feelings, unshared worries, and old wounds.
"…I don't know," Y/N finally responds, her tone still soft, yet layered with quiet honesty. "I haven't decided yet."
She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. Her eyes remain on her soup, the spoon still gently stirring though she's no longer paying attention to it.
"You already know this isn't for me, Shoko."
Her voice is calm, but it trembles ever so slightly at the edges, betraying the emotion she's trying so hard to contain.
Shoko sits frozen for a moment. Her mind races, heart thudding louder than she'd like to admit. She stares at her friend, really sees her. The way her shoulders subtly curl inwards, the way her lashes lower to avoid eye contact, the way she always tries to make it easier for everyone else even when her own heart's breaking.
Without a word, Shoko pushes her tray aside and stands up. She walks around the table, then leans down and pulls Y/N into a firm embrace.
Y/N blinks, she wasn't surprised. Her hands slowly reach up and wrap around Shoko's waist, holding on tightly.
Shoko holds her close, resting her chin atop Y/N's head. Her grip is strong—not desperate, but protective, as if she could shield her from every hard choice, every painful memory.
Neither of them speaks.
They don't have to.
Because Shoko knows. She knows what Y/N has been through. She knows what it took for her to sit here every day and smile like nothing hurt. And now, faced with a future that finally offers a door out, she understands the conflict in her friend's heart.
And Y/N, in Shoko's silence, feels heard, feels understood.
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋꒷꒦